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IN SARAMEDE 



IN SARAMEDE 

A COMEDY-PASTORAL IN 
THREE ACTS 



By 



MARIANNE STAYTON 



Copyright, 191 2, by Samuel French, Limited 



Nicw York 

S/VMUEL FKliXCH 

Publisher 

28-30, WEST 38TH STREET 



London 
SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd 
26, Southampton Street 

STRAND 



•^^ 

^^^J' 

-v 



©CI.D 29897 



"IN SARAMEDE" 

A Comedy-Pastoral in Three Acts, 

BY 

MARIANNE STAYTON. 

Produced on June 8, 191 1, at Rowledge, Farnham, 
with the following cast : — 

Prince RoLFE OF Saramede Mr. Henry Le Grand 
Sir Merlyn of the Glydd Mr. Olaf Baker 
Princess Rosamund . Miss Marianne Stayton 



Miss lerne Fitzgerald 
Miss Elsie Pennington 
Miss Marjorie Hamel 
Miss Dorothy Stevens 
Miss Lois Kempson 
Miss Olive Pennington 
Miss Rose Lane 



Princess Isra 
The Lady Maud . 
The Lady Perla . 
The Lady Hilda . 
The Lady Fred aline 
The Lady Zinda . 
The Lady Ermyntrude 
Martha OF The Meredines Mrs. Willie Bashall 
(The Prince's Old Nurse) 

Time and Place ; A. Summer Day upon the Isle of 
Kings. 

Act /., Morning; Act II., Afternoon; Act III., 
Evening. 

Produced under the direction of Mr. Frank Stayton. 



ISRA. A little, fair, fluffy girl, taking herself very 
seriously. 

Maud. Fat and little and giggly. A great sense* of 

Per LA. The only one of the crew with a real sense 
of humour, which she consistently hides under a 
languid, affected, sugary manner. Rather tall, 
she affects artistic attitudes and general floppiness 
of bearing. 

Hilda. Tall, angular, brusque. Sort of girl who 
sticks her chin and elbows out. Very downright . 

Fredaline. Large and gloomy, with a habit of 

staring vaguely at things and people. 
ZiNDA. Snub-nosed and conceited. Persistent. 

Ermyntrude. Slight and negative, though one 
hopes not quite so stupid as she seems. 



The fee for each and every representation of this 
play by amateurs is Two Guineas, payable in advance 
to :— 

MESSRS. SAMUEL FRENCH, LIMITED, 
26, Southampton Street, 

Strand, London, 

or their authorized representatives, who will issue a 
written authority for the performance t9 ta)ce place. 
No representation may be given unless this written 
permission has first been obtained. 

All the costumes and wigs used in ^* In Saramede " 
may be hired or purchased 'reasonably from Messrs. 
Chas. H. Fox, Ltd., 27, Wellington Street, Strand, 
London. 



SCENE PLOT 





A Laig'c Tree 
A Bank round Tree, 
Onshions, etc. 



^sit 



A^ 



J — 



Trees 
and Bracken 

^ 



A Log *^*MJ 



Tf, 



'oes 



A Forest GUade, exits wherever you please. 



ACT I 

The Girls come through the forest. 

Rosamund enters l. 2 e., runs to l. of tree, panting- 
stops, listens, then quickly behind it to r. of it, hid- 
ing. Hilda, Perla, Ermyntrude run on l.u.e., 
looking, stop up L., then quickly across to up r. 
Then Zinda, Maud, Fredaline from l.u.e. ; they 
remain up l. Rosamund then darts across to L. 
below log. Girls hear her, all come doum slightly. 
Hilda and Perla come down r. of tree. Ermyn- 
trude L. of it. Zinda to r. of log above it. Maud 
and Fredaline to l. of it above it. Rosamund 
dodges. 

Hilda (breathless). Pray stop, dear Rosamun'd ! 

Perla. Oh, Rosamund, 

Thou runnest Uke a hunted hare ! 

Rosamund (laughing). Nay, then, 

We'll call a halt awhile within this grove ! 

(Rosamund coming forward to c. ; girls a little down.) 

Why, see ! It is another's resting-place ! 
Perchance the old nurse comes to doze and nod . . . 
Well, well, we'll borrow it with grateful than s ! 
(Sits under tree.) 

(Hilda and Perla sit r. of tree ; Errmyntude l. of 
tree ; Zinda r. of log facing out ; Fredaline l. 
of log, back to audience : Maud kneels one knee on 
log, hand on Zinda' s shoulder.) 
9 



10 IN SARAMEDE. 

Are we all here ? (Enter Isra l.u.e., limping ; corner 
to L. oj Rosamund.) Where's Isra ? 

Isra (rubbing her ankle). Sorae of me's 

On yonder thorn ! Ooh / I've a scratch so long ! 
Fredaline (ever gloomy). Some thorns are poison- 
ous , 
Ermyntrude. Oh, Isra dear ! 

ZiNDA. Wilt thou not suck the place ? 
Isra. No, I will not. 

(Isra sits l. of Rosamund.) 

ZiNDA. My cousin, Hilhbert of Ortamonde 

(Girls turn to her, pretending breathless interest^) 
Maud "j / 

and \ Yes, yes ! / 

Hilda, j 
Perl A ^ 

and [ Go on ! 

Ermyntrude. j 

All. Thy cousin Hillibert ? . . . 

Isra (reprovingly). Of Ortamonde ! 
All. Of Ortamonde, of course ! . . . 

Zinda. When once a thorn into his finger drave — 
Isra. Into his royal finger ! 
Maud. Traitor thorn ! 

All. How terrible ! 
Perla. Oh, what said Hillibert ? 

Zinda. He said 

Girls. Ye-es ? . . . 

Zinda. That to suck the place was best ! 

(Girls laugh.) 

Rosamund. Nay, tease her not ! Her cousin 
Hillibert 
Is doubtless a wise man ! 

Isra (looking at Zinda). It may be so. 

/ think he is first-cousin to a fool ! 



IN SARAMEDE. 11 

(ZiNDA pouts.) 

Rosamund. I wonder where the Prince is ! Oh, 
how strange 
To think we are upon the sacred Isle 
That knows his daily step ! 

Perla. Oh, Rosamund, 

But if he should be angry at our deed ! 
What would he do ? 

Fredaline (gloomily). Behead us all, belike. 

Maud. Oh, me ! I'd hate myself without a 

head ! 
IsRA. Why ? 'Twould but be the giving up for 
good 
What thou hast lost so often ! 

Maud. Better head 

Than heart, dear Isra ! 

ISRA. Poof ! I think not so ! 

Maud. Heart goes first. Head goes after to bring 

back! 
IsRA. Then, sooth, thine must have journeyed far 

and fast ! 
Maud. Indeed, it knows the way home safe 

enough ! 
Isra. What art thou dreaming, dearest Rosa- 
mund ? 
Rosamund. How will he look, our Prince we've 
loved so long 
But never have beheld ! Oh ! he will move 
In noble guise ! Grave eyes I think he'll have, 
Eyes full of dreams . . . but grave. Upon his brow 
The stamp of thought . . . and dreams. His mouth 

so cut 
To show the splendid will behind the dreams. . . . 
Oh, I do think he'll prove a perfect knight, 
Chivalrous, strong, and tender ! One to lift 
The Nation in his hands, as gift to God. 

Hilda [always downright). If he's indeed so very, 
very fine, 



12 IN SARAMEDE. 

Why has he Ungered here in idleness 
These many years ? 

Rosamund. He has been held in dreams . . . 
But dreams, I'll swear, of noble things and true 1 
Awake him, he'll come forth to live the dreams ... 
That is our mission here ... to waken him. 
'Tis sure a holy Quest ! 

Maud. Oh, Rosamund ! ^' 

I thought our journey was but took in fun, 
A summer jest ! 

Rosamund. Within jest earnest lies, 

The seed within the gaily dancing fiow'r. 

Maud. Oh, dear ! 

Perla. How beautiful ! I had not thought 
That I v/as on a Quest, or I'd have worn 
A better gown than this. 

(Rises, looking at her goum ; then sits again.) 

Ermyntrude. 'Tis strange to think 

None hath beheld our Prince ! 
■ Fred ALINE [sinister). 'Tis very strange. 

Perchance there's reason for't. 

Maud. Oh, Fredahne ! 

Fredaline. One never knows. 

Rosamund. Since he was three years old 

(General interest.) 

He has dwelt here in Nature's soUtudes, 
Such was his father's wish and will for him. 
Since three ! . . . That's five and twenty years ago ! 

(Gtrls all count up on their fingers.) 

Fredaline. A wasted Ufe ! 

Rosamund. No, no ! A vigil blest ! 

Maud (to Fredaline). He's missed the fun .at 
Court ! 

Rosamund. Ay, that he has ! 

Missed all the gossip and the ribaldry ! 
Missed all the gaming, drinking, and high words ! 



I SARAMEDE. 1 3 

The incense of self-seeking flattery ! 
And all the amorous fools who would have trailed 
Their lures across his path . . . across his soul ! 
Instead, he's had the converse of the birds ! 
Joined in the splendid revelry of Spring ! 
Glowed to the chant of the eternal winds ! 
Breathed incense of the solemn sun-hot woods ! 
And, for caress ... his virgin cheek has known 
The sweep of dew-wet roses in the dawn . . . 

Hilda. Well, if that satisfies him as a kiss 
He's welcome to't ! 'Tis far from my idea ! 

Perla. Or mine ! 

Maud (giggling). Or mine ! 

IsRA. To tell you truth, 
Or mine ! 

ZiNDA (coughs impressively). Er-h'm ! . . . (All 
turn to her.) My cousin Hillibert — 

All. What ? 

Perla. Hillibert ? 

Girls. Thy cousin Hillibert ? 

ZiNDA (petulantly). Nay, I'll not tell you, then ! 

(Rises, sits with her hack to audience.) 

(Martha enters r.u.e., crosses hack, comes hehind tree 
to c, slowly. She is a huxom old dame with a 
temper and a sense of humour.) 

Fredaline (rising). Soft ! Some one comes ! 

(Rosamund crosses to r. end of log. Maud and Zinda 
quickly to L. of log helow it. Isra to behind 
Rosamund. Ermyntrude to helow tree to 
Perla and Hilda. Tip-toes all.)] 

A woman with a fierce and warlike frown ! 
We are undone ! 

Isra. Speak to her, Rosamund ! 

Thou'rt leader ! She is here ! 
Save us ! 

Rosamund. Good-day ! 



14 IN SARAMEDE. 

Martha. Powers of sin, what are ye doing here* ! 
How came ye ? Whence ? What ! What ! Why, 

do ye know 
Ye are at trespass of the Isle of Kings ? 
Wliat's that ye say ? Who are ye, wench ? 

Rosamund. I am 

Tlie Princess Rosamund, of Ildamede. 

Martha. Eh ? 

Rosamund. This my sister, Princess Isra . . . 

(ISRA drops a deep, mocking curtsey.) 

These, 
My friends, the daughters of our dukes and lords. 

[All curtsey, same bus.) 

(Hilda goes to l. of hey group.) 

ISRA. Thou see'st we're quite respectable, good 
soul ! 

(Martha glares at her.) 

Rosamund. If our intrusion shocks thee, under- 
stand 
That we are maids of Saramede, and come, 
Out of our deep and ardent loyalty. 
To lay our homage at our Prince's feet. 

Martha. Well, I'll be 

Isra. Ssh ! (Martha glares at her.) 

Rosamund. Art thou his ancient nurse. 

Of whom report hath spoken o'er and o'er 
As patient, kind, and true, if somewhat stern ? 

Martha {pleased). Report hath named me so? 

Rosamund. Indeed it hath ! 

We all know Martha of the Meredines ! 

Girls {under their breaths, curtseying deeply). 

" Martha of the Meredines" . . . 
Martha. Tut ! Say ye so ! Well, well ! Now, 
fancy that ! 



IN SARAMEDE. 15 

Report can speak the truth, then ! Nay, I'll not 
Deny my virtues. ... It would be to shame 
The One that placed them in me ! Dear, dear, dear ! 

(Suddenly remembering.) 

How dared ye come to this embargoed spot ? 
IsRA. We did so long to see thee ! 

(Martha glares at her.) 
(To Girls.) Hide me, friends !• 
Rosamund. Indeed, it was an impulse of our 
hearts ! 
We think he has dwelt long enough in dreams. 
We thmk, perchance, he should be waked at last 
We thmk he should take hold of things, and rule. 
We thmk ... we think ... 
Hilda {bluntly). We think he should be— wed. 
(Hilda turns her back abruptly on Martha.) 
Girls. Oh, Hilda ! 

Hilda (over her shoulder). Oh, you know I speak 
the truth ! 

Martha. Well, I'll be 

\^^^- Ssh ! (Martha glares.) 

MARTHA. So that is what ye think ! 

I 11 warrant me each has the bride in mind ' 
If ever I have heard the like, may I 
Be wed at ninety to a toothless babe ! 
(Chuckles.) A lot of daring hussies ! I'm not sure 
L t."''* love^ ye for it ! But the Prince 
Would see ye fruiting each a separate tree 
l^ike //m . . . (imitates handing ; girls pretend horror) 
before he'd wed with aught of ye ' 

xJ^^\^^}^^ ("^''^^ ^''P ^^^^^^)- Said I not so? 
We 11 all be dead ere noon ! 

Rosamund. Good soul, thou art mistaken ! They 
but jest. ^ 

There is no thought of marriage in our hearts. 
Is It not so, friends ? 



16 IN SARAMEDE. 

Girls [doubtfully). Ye-es .... 
Martha (winking to herself). I'll warrant me ! 
Rosamund. He is our Quest, our Grail ! Adven- 
tured thus 
We are in sort Knights Errant. . . . 

ISRA. Hungry ones ! 

Martha. Well, well, ye have my breath quite 
took away ! 

(Martha goes up to r. of log, sits. Rosamund goes 
to girls at log also. Fredaline and Maud coming 
round behind log to r. of it.) 

How did ye come ? 

Rosamund. By boat. They left us here. 

And will return this evening. 

(Rosamund goes up c. to l. of tree.) 

Martha. Heaven's Grace ! 

Where shall I hide ye all till then ! 

Zinda. Thou think'st 

The Prince will not invite us ? 

Martha. Bless you, no! 

He's never met a woman in his life 
Save me, since he had eyes to see at all ! 
Think of the fright ye'd give him ! 

Maud {giggling). Thanks, good dame ! 

Ermyntrude. Oh, Tm so hungry ! 

Zinda. Oh, and I ! 

Girls. And I ! 

Martha. Well, well. Knights Errant must be 
fed ! (Martha rises ; comes c.) See ye, 
There is a grove but yonder (Martha _/?om^s off l. i e.) 

a short way, 
Hid there, Til serve ye. Fve a cottage, too, 
Where ye may bide awhile. 

[Girls rush round her, all but Rosamund, who falls to 
dreaming under tree. Fredaline, Hilda, Perl a. 



IN SARAMEDE. ' 17 

Ermyntrude to R. 0/ Martha. Maud and 
ZiNDA to L. 0/ her. Isra a^oi;^ Maud.) 

Girls. Oh, where ? Oh, where ? 

Maud. Hast thou a mirror? 

Perla. And a comb? • 

Fredaline. Some salve 

For my sun-bhstered skin, or else am I 
Bound to be stricken by some fever'd ill ! 

Isra. Some flour, good Martha, as thou lov'st me ! 

Martha (puzzled.) Flour ? 

Isra. I'm sure my nose shines like the sun at 
noon ! 

Girls. Mine, too ! 

Martha. Come then, I'll do my best for ye ! 

(Girls pull her off l. i e., laughing and talking. Isra 
turns back to Rosamund.) 

(Mu^-ic) 

Isra. Dear Rosamund, awake thee ! 
Rosamund (rousing herself). Yes ... I come ! 

(She and Isra follow the others off l. 1 e.) 

(Rolfe and Merlyn enter r.u.e., crossing slowly behind 
tree to down c. Prince Rolfe is a tall, handsome 
man of about 28, with a strong, grave, dreamy fac^, 
which yet shows a whimsical humour. Sir Mer- 
lyn is 30. Fat, vain, heavily mustachioed, brain- 
less, but faithful. He is elaborately dressed.) 

Rolfe. What's in the air to-day ? It hath a 
scent 
Sweeter than I have known ... or else I dream ! 
Opens some rarer blossom to the light, 
Or what enchantment's here ? I seem to feel 
A touch upon my senses. . . . (Dreamily.) 

Sir Merlyn (sitting l. of tree and scratching about 
with his dagger.) Ah, Sir Rolfe,. 
'Tis here the very finest truffles grow ! 



18 IN SARAMEDE. 

RoLFE. Truffles, forsooth ! Have at thee for a 

^ ! 
Sir Merlyn (stops scratching). But, sir, you Uke 

them well ! 
RoLFE: Ay, in their place, 

Or ratiier, out of it ! Now, faithful friend, 
Withdraw a bow-shot from me — ^a long shot, 

(Sir Merlyn rises.) 

As far as voice may reach ! I'd be alone 
To telke the benison of morning breeze. 
And absolution of the mounting sun. . . . 
What wealth of silver in the beeches' shade ! 

Sir Merlyn. Silver, sir ? Where ? I see none ! 
RoLFE. 'Tis the brake. 

The fairies' forest, where they hide in June. . . . 
Sir Merlyn (seriously, rubbing knee). One nipped 
me on the knee last night, methinks, 
I had a very mountain of a bump ! . . . 

RoLFE. Thou did'st not dare to roam the brake 
at eve ! 
They hold their revels then, at rise of moon, 
In dusky ball-rooms of the scented fern . . . 
And if thou, thoughtless faring, blundered through, 
'Tis very certain some indignant sprite 
Plunged spear of grass in thy intruding knee ! 
Sir Merlyn (going hurriedly and dodging the bracken). 
I'll not go there again ! (Sir Merlyn exits 
r. I E.) 
Rolfe (looking after Merlyn ^o r.) . A faithful fool, 
A simple fool, "whom I do jest withal 
In an unknightly way ! (Go&s up below tree, sitting.) 
Cry shame on me. . . . 

[Looks up into sky to l.) 

Ha, there ! Sir Hawk ! Old Hunter ! Where's thy 

prey? . . . 
Hide, gentle dove, for death hangs in mid-air ! 



IN SARAMEDE. 1Q 

He's gone. . . . How strange the Law that's in it 

all, 
One Law, and yet results so all unlike ! 
It bids the rose perfume the summer wind, 
That summer nights be founts of ecstasy, 
That summer stream.s should cool, and heal, and 

bless . . . 
That hawks should stoop, and doves should suffer 

wrong ! 
Perchance the wind's the hawk unto the rose, 
Her scent her lie. . . . Nay, God's behind it all l' . 

(Martha hurries in l. 2 e., behind log to c.) 

Martha. Sir Prince ! Sir Rolfe ! Sir Nursling ! 
Art thou there ? 

Rolfe (dreamily). Ay ! . . . 

Martha. Here's a pretty piece of work to do ! 

What think you's happened ? 
. Rolfe. Nav. I know not. 

Martha. Why, 

We are invaded, that's the very truth ! 

Rolfe (springing to his feet, hand on knife). In- 
vaded ? 

Martha. Ay, you'll need your arms, Sir Knight ! 

(Chuckles). Both, may be ! 'Tis a very deadly foe ! 

Rolfe (faces Martha). What mean you? Tell 

me, woman ! 
Martha. There ! There ! There ! 

(Martha puts her hand on Rolfe's arm.) 

It is no horde of savage, sworded men ! 
Thou can'st not hurl thee swift upon them so ! 
Nay, nay, my son ! Arm thee another way ! 
Blmdfold thine eyes ! Stop up thine ears with wool ! 
Bmd thme arms tight behind thee ! Bind thy 

thoughts ! 
And then go face thy irortal enemy ! 



20 IN SARAMEDE. 

RoLFE. Thou art not drunken, nurse, at thy full 

age ? 
Martha. I drunken ? 1 ? Nay, nay, tear not 
for me ! 
See that thou art not drunken with their smiles ; 
Their soft, slow voices ; and their ling'ring eyes ; 
The perfume of their hair ; their swaying shapes ! 
" RoLFE [impatiently). Whose eyes ? Whose smiles ? 
Whose voices ? 

Martha (complete change oj tone, as to a child). 

Save in books, 
And flat and shapeless there, thou hast not seen 
Aught feminine, in five-and-twenty years. 
Save me, thine old and somewhat out-worn nurse I 
Well, well ! 'Tis deluge where I'd have a show'r ! 
vStill, if one's drowned, what matters brook or sea ! 
RoLFE {sternly). Why, how you babble on ! 

Now, what's to do ? 
Martha (finger to her lips, then tip-toes to l., look- 
ing off "L. I E. and L. 2. E., then tip-toes hack to 
RoLFE, stage whisper). Sir . . . there are women 
here ! 
RoLFE. What say'st thou ? 

Martha. vSir, 

We are invaded by a horde of girls ! 

RoLFE. What ! Here ! (Rolfe a step down r.c, 
then turns to Martha.) Upon the sacred Isle of 
Kings ! 
How came they ? Whence ? What is their pur- 
pose ? 
Martha (chuckling). Why, 

It is to find their honoured Prince — a wife ! 
Rolfe (aghast). A what ? 
Martha. A wife, sir. 

Rolfe. How ! A wife. For whom ? 

Martha. For thee ! 

Rolfe. For me7 . . . Am / mad, or art thou ? 
How dare they set their feet upon this land ? 



i 



IN SARAMEDe 21 

What -are these women like? (Crosses Martha to 

L.c. beloii; log.) Women . . . how strange ! 
I have not seen a woman yet . 

Save thee ! 
Why, none has dared what these have ! Who are 
they ? 
Martha. Princesses, and the Uke, of Saramede. 
One calleth thee her Knight, her Quest, her Grail. 
She's harmless, belike mad. She Uves in dreams. 
But there's another saucy wench, with eyes 
As naughty as her tongue ! And all the rest 
Have one idea held fast . . . You should be wed 
I think they'll see you do't ! 

RoLFE. Hawk from the sky ! 

Hide, dove, or perish ! Quick ! (Comes to Martha, 
then across to R.c, calling ; then turns again to 
Martha.) Where's Merlyn gone ? 

(Calling.) Merlyn ! Oh. Merlyn ! Find him ! Send 

him here ! 
And you. nurse, not a word, what'er you see ! 
Go, find Sir Merlyn quickly ! Go, good soul ! 

(Martha crosses front of Rolfe and exits r. i e.) 

When sudden danger threats, be sudden, too ! . . . 

(Sir Merlyn enters r. i e., limping wearily. Rolfe 
meets him above him, takes him by his l. arm- to c. 
almost L.c.) 

Ah ! there thou art ! Oh, friend, I've need of thee f 
Come quickly, quickly! Listen! There's a foe 
Here in our midst ! 

Sir Merlyn (stops short). A foe ? 

Rolfe. A deadly foe ! 

Woman ! Determined, fair, implacable ! 

Sir Merlyn. Woman,. Sir Prince ? 

Rolfe. Ay, woman, Merlyn ! Girls ! 

Sir Merlyn. Girls ! ! (Breaks slowly into a . 
broad grin and begins to twirl his m.oustache.) 



22 IN SARAMEDE. 

RoLFE {a step down to l., then turns to Merlyn). 
I hear voices ! Listen ! While they're here 
I'm you, you're me ! You tak me ? 
(Sir Merlyn looks puzzled.) It is you 
Who are the Prince ! I'm but your humble man. . . 
You, you are Rolfe of Saramede ! You hear ? 
Sir Merlyn. I yoii ? No, no ! Oh, I am all dis- 
traught ! 
Girls here ? My trunks ! My hose ! I am not 
waxed ! (Feeling moustache.) 
Rolfe. Sir Knight, you fail me, you on whom I 
rest ? 
You do refuse the service that I ask ? 
I'll look elsewhere, then ! 

(Rolfe crosses Sir Merlyn to r.) 

Sir Merlyn (kneels to Rolfe). Oh, Sir Prince, 
thou know'st 

My very life is thine, but . . . 

(ISRA heard.) 

Rolfe. Here comes one ! ... 

Is a maid's voice hke that ? 'Tis passing sweet ! 
Stand up, man. (Sir Merlyn rises, and Isra enters 

L. I E., she stops L. end of log.) Throw thy chest ! 

Thou art the Prince ! 

(As Isra draws near.) 

Oh, very good. Your Highness ! I will see 

Your will is done ! (Aside to Merlyn.) How's that ? 

(Aloud.) I thank you, sir ! 

(Sir Merlyn swaggering across to R.) 

Isra (coming to r. end of log). My good young man, 

that . . . that is not the Prince ? 
Rolfe (a step to Isra). Madam, where are your 

eyes ? Is not his rank 
Stamped o'er his every feature ? 

Isra. Truly ? That ? 



IN SARAMEDE. 23 

Great Powers ! Why, thou'rt much more Uke a 
Prince ! 
RoLFE. I thank you, lady. Shall I make you 
known ? 
The Prince hath heard of you. 

ISRA. No ! Hath he? How ? 

RoLFE. Fame's trumpet carries far ! 
ISRA. Yes, but we're told 

He hath no interest in womankind ! 
RoLFE. But try him, madam. 
IsRA. Good young man, I will ! 

RoLFE. Sir Prince, this is the lady we have heard 
Such raptures of. (Sir Merlyn turns to l., and 
RoLFE hacks above log to l.) 'Tis . . . she of 
Saramede. 
Sir Merlyn (taking up position below tree. Isra 
comes to l. of him.) Er — h'm ! Approach thee, 
wench ! 
(RoLFE leaves him to his doom and goes out. Impor- 
tant : RoLFE to exit behind tree and off r. 2. E.) 
(Changing his tone.) Prithee, fair dame, 
I fain would meet thee as thou should' st be met 1 
Thy pardon, then. I'm unprepared for this 
— Er — h'm !— descent of angels. I am soiled 
And torn. My costume old in shape and use . . . 

(Looking down anxiously at hose.) 

ISRA (following his eye). The shape s all right 1 
Sir Merlyn (fearfully tickled). What say'st thou, 

saucy maid ? 
ISRA. Oh, sir, the truth will leap from out rny hps 
Before I've time to nip her by the tail ! 

(Sir Merlyn simply swells with vanity. Ermyn- 
TRUDE, Hilda, Maud enter l. i e., remain below 
log ; Isra beckons ; they come.) 

Sir, have I leave to make these ladies known ?■ 



24 



IN SARAMEDE. 



They're of the Court. Merlyn {bus. with moustachios, 

etc.) (Over shoulder.) For any sake at all 
Look not so all surprised ! It is the Prince ! 

(Maud giggles.) 

Sir Merlyn. What ? What ? More maids ? 
ISRA. (Ermyntrude ciirtseys a step forward, then 
retires a step hack.) The Lady Ermyntrude. 

[Bus.) 

(Hilda curtseys a step forward, then retires a step hack.) 
The Lady Hilda, and the Lady Maud. (Maud curt- 
seys a step forward, then retires a step hack.) 

(Bus., bows, etc. Maud giggles.) 

Sir Merlyn (frightfully coy). Ha ! Merry One 
see thee 1 

Maud (giggling). Oh. Sir Prince, 

How we have dreamed of thee ! 

Sir Merlyn. Ha ! H'm ! Indeed ! 

And am I like the vision of thy dreams ? 

(Maud, overcome with giggles, hides her face.) 

Nay, have no fear ! Look on me, unafraid ! 

(Perla, Zinda, Fredaline enters l. i e. Merlyn 
a step down towards them ; Ermyntrude, Hilda, 
Maud work round to r.c. Isra remains slightly 
above and L. of Sir Merlyn.) 

Faith, it rains maids ! Now, who are these ? 

Isra. Oh, sir. 

The Ladies Perla, (6ws.), Zinda, (6ws., Fredaline (bus.) 

[After curtseying Perla and Zinda go a little up to log, 
Fredaline left l. end of log. Isra clutches at 
Perla and Zinda and tells them with giggles 
who he is. Fredaline is left staring gloomily 
at him. HeJwirls his moustache at her.) 



IN SARAMEDE. 25' 

Sir Merlyn. Well, do I please thee ? 
Fred ALINE, I am seldom pleased. 

(He looks surprised. All gather round him.) 

Maud. Oh, dear Sir Prince, when come vou to the 

Court ? 
Ermyntrude. You know, sir, others think to do 

as you. 
Perla. They love their freedom better than . . . 

well . . . 
Hilda. Us / 

ISRA. We do our best, but still they will not wed 1 
ZiNDA, Even my cousin Hilli 

(Girls cough loudly anh simultaneously. Zinda pants 
hut desists.) 

Sir Merlyn, Tsha ! Well, well ! 

It seems they have grown fools in Saramede ! 



(Turning back to audience.) 
Would I were seven men to wed ye all ! 

Perla. Sir, how they've blackened you 1 Why, it 
is said 
You have iio wish to look upon a maid ! 

Sir Merlyn. I ? I ? ? (Swaggers down r., very 
fierce, then turns up again to Perla.) Show me 
the man that hath said so ! 
Split me his weasand for a lying knave ! 
(Going L.) Why, I have been a devil (general move- 
ment from girls), doubt me not. 
As both Adorer and— er—h'm !— Adored ! 
Girls. What .^ 
Sir Merlyn. Trust me ! 
Hilda. Sir, but you have never been 

In Saramede since you were three years old ! 
Sir Merlyn. I ? What ? (Pauses, suddenly 
remembers, then comes well down r., the girls 
close in round him.) 'Tis true ' Twas not in 
Saramede. . . 



26 IN SARAMEDE. 

(The girls gather round closely.) 

IsRA. Oh ! . . . Tell us, Prince ! (He shakes 

his head,) 
Girls, Yes, tell us ! 

Maud. Princy, dear / 

(Rosamund enters l. 2 e., comes slowly down l. side 
of log.) 

Sir Merlyn (with the last possible e-ffeci m the way of 
coyness). I'll tell each one in turn, alone, apart ! 

(The girls whisper together in two groups. Ermyn- 
TRUDE, Hilda, Maud r. of Merlyn, Isra, Perla, 
ZiNDA and Fredaline, l. Their backs to Mer- 
lyn.) 

What ? What ? Now, who comes first ? 

Maud. Nay, dear Sir Prince. (Rosamund 

gives a start and stops) 
We've scarcely a whole day ! Take two at once ! 
The rest shall follow, and await their turn ! 

Sir Merlyn (twirling his moustache disappointedly) 
'Tis as ye wish. Now, here's a pair of arms ! 

(Girls rush at him. After a struggle Isra anh Maud 
take each an arm.) 

Ah, saucy jades ! I thought so ! / thought so ! 

(Sir Merlyn, with Isra on his l, arm and Maud 0% 
his R., is crossing towards l., stops. The rest 
of the girls behind Merlyn, slightly R.c. He 
turns, meeting Rosamund, whose eyes are wide 
with horror and disgust.) 

Ha ! By the Rood, who is this handsome maid ? 
Isra. The Princess Rosamund, my sister, sir. 
(To Rosamund.) It is the Prince ! 

(Rosamund stares blankly at him.) 

Sir Merlyn. How now ! Is the maid bUnd ? 



IN SARAMEDE. 27 

(The Girls whisper together.) 

Rosamund [a tragic note in her voice). You are the 

Prince . . . 
Sir Merlyn. Thou see'st me! 

Rosamund. You . . . the Prince ! 

Our Dream ! , . . Our Hero ! . . . 
Sir Merlyn (kindly). There, be not afraid ! 

($IR Merlyn half step to Rosamund, who goes up to l. 
of trees. Rosamund suddenly clutches at tree 
and hides her face, weeping.) 

Quite overcome, poor wench ! I've seen them thus ! 
ISRA. Sir Prince, I think she is not well. Please 

go! 
Sir Merlyn. Yes, yes, I must not dazzle her too 
much. 
Not all at once ! 'Twere cruel so ! Come, maids ! 

(They rush round him again. Maud takes one R. arm, 
Fredaline, r., the other.) 

(To Maud, who giggles.) Ah ! Coy one ! 

(To Fredaline, who stares at him coolly.) Puss I 

There, there ! 'Tis well ! Now, now ! . . . 

(They exit laughing, l. 2 e. Isra turns to Rosamund. 
RoLFE enters r. 2 e., and comes down R. 0/ tree, 
stops.) 

Isra (comes to r. 0/ Rosamund). Sister ! Dear 

Sister ! 
Rosamund. Leave me . . . 

Isra. Rosamund ! 

Rosamund. Go, Isra dear! . . . Nay, leave me! 
All my dreams 
Were mockeries. . . . Nay, I would wake alone . . . 
Leave me . . . 
Isra. Oh, dear! 

(Goes reluctantly after the others, with backward glances 
at Rosamund. Rolfe is watching from l.) 



28 IN SARAMEDE. 

Rosamund. Oh, cruel jest of Fate ! 

Oh, deadly blow ! My country, lost, betrayed, 
This is thy Knight, thy Hero-Knight, thy Hope, 
Thy Heart's Pulse, and thy Soul, this . . . popinjay ! 
Oh, woe is me, indeed ! 

(RoLFE crosses slowly to c, slightly above log.) 

RoLFE. Madam, you weep ! 

Rosamund. Ay, me, I weepi I mourn a soul's 
ideal ! 
I mourn a faith ! I mourn a Land bereft ! 
I mourn an outraged people and their doom ! 

Rolfe. Why, how is this ? What Land ? 

Rosamund. My Saramede . . . 

Rolfe. Mine, too. 

Rosamund. Then mourn with me . . . 

Rolfe. What has befell ? 

Rosamund. Sir, we had dreamed, in Saramede, 
of one 
Hid from his people's eyes, but not their hearts. 
A stainless, noble knight who, wrapped in dreams, 
Pondered apart on high, upHfted things. 
Keeping a holy vigil, till the dawn 
Wliose summons should command him to come forth. 
And lead his people to'ard their destiny 1 . . . 

Rolfe (deeply touched). Madam ... a dream 
indeed ! 

Rosamund, (sadly). A dream . . indeed ! 

Rolfe. The Prince is but an erring, mortal 
man . . . 
Yet, dearer to him even than his dreams 
(And they are dear), his people and his Land ! 

(RoSx\MUND looks scornful.) 

Madam, he, too, has pictured such a Knight, 
And stumbled after him, oh, far away ... 
But with a will to follow, and be true. 

Rosamund. You jest, I think sir. I have seen 
the Prince. 



IN SARAMEDE. 20 

RoLFE. You have not seen into his heart, as I ! 
Madam, I've searched it through and through with 

tears. 
And this I swear, though much unworthiness 
Hath lodging, there's a passion infinite. 
Strong as heart's beat and vital as the breath. 
To serve her whom he prays for night and day ! 
Whom in his dreams he sees march down the years 
Steadfast among the nations, stern, controlled. 
Rich with the wealth of honour, knowledge, faith. 
Mighty in deeds of right, and crowned with truth 1 

Rosamund (carried away). Ay, that's my dream ! 
(Turning to him.) Oh, Heav'n, would I could think 
It were the Prince's, too ! 

Rolfe. Madam 

Rosamund. Ah, no ! . . . 

(Rosamund comes slightly to Rolfe.) 

'Tis your own heart you've read to me, not his 1 
Would his but glowed as warm, but beat as true ! 
It is a patriot's heart ! Who are you, sir ? 

Rolfe. A very humble servant of the State. 

Rosamund. I know you not, I think, in Saramede? 

Rolfe. No, madam. 

Rosamund. | Ah . . . you come not to our Court. 

Rolfe. No, madam. 

Rosamund. No ... I should not have forgot. 

Rolfe. I'm . . . a rough fellow of the Outer 
Woods. 

(Rolfe goes down r.c.) 

Rosamund. Not rough, I think. And with a 

poet's soul. 
Rolfe. I lack the air of Courts. 
Rosamund. Indeed, 'tis true ! 

There are not many there your double, sir. 

Rolfe. My tongue is not attuned to courtly 

phrase. 
Rosamund. To courtier's phrase. 



30 IN SARAMEDE. 

RoLFE. It knows not how to please. 

Rosamund (softly). I think it doth ! 

(Rosamund a step up to l. of tree.) 

How brown you are, and strong ! 

(Rosamund sits under c. of tree.) 

RoLFE. I am a hunter, madam. 
Rosamund. Poet, too ! 

How strange a blend ! 

(RoLFE coming to r. of Rosamund.) 

RoLFE. I fear you laugh at me. 

Am I so strange ? 

Rosamund. Perchance 'twas not the word 

I had in mind. But it will serve. 

RoLFE. You laugh ! 

Rosamund. Nay, sir, I laugh not. I do think you 
are 
Whom maids would treat with serious intent . . . 
Is't not so ? 

RoLFE. I'm at loss ! You jest with me ! 
What maids ? I know none. 

Rosamund. Is it so indeed ? 

RoLFE. In very deed. I've seen none till to-day. 

(Rosamund turns from him and picks a flower.) 

Rosamund. Why then, you share the exile of the 

Prince ? 
RoLFE. Ay, madam, every day of it. 
Rosamund. By choice ? 

(RoLFE hows.) 

The gUtter of the city calls you not ? 

RoLFE. Madam, I have the sunlight on the sea. 

Rosamund. To know men's hearts are beating 

at your frown ! 
RoLFE. Madam, I know the beat of Nature's 

heart. 



IN SARAMEDE. 31 

Rosamund. Men's voices raised in choruses of 

praise ! 
RoLFE. Madam . . . alone, I hear the winds 

praise God. 

(Pause. She tarns her head from him.) 

Rosamund. Ay ... so with him I dreamed 
of! . . . 

[Pause.) 

RoLFE. You are vexed, 

Madam : I have displeased you ? 

Rosamund. Nay, indeed . . . 

I was but musing only. Then you dwell 
Here, in your dreams, sir ? 

RoLFE (crosses to R. of log). Ay, too much, I fear ! 
There is a point dreams cease, day should begin. 

(RoLFE sits R. end of log, his chin in hand.) 

I dream all night I'm fit to meet the day, 
And then — I hesitate, and dream again. 

Rosamund. T think there is a Touch-stone hid in 
Time 
When found will test the metal of our dreams . . . 
Are they true gold ? . . . Our lives shall speak for 
that. 
RoLFE (rises). A Touch-stone, madam? 
Rosamund. Ay ? 

RoLFE (a step towards her, stops). Necessity ? 
Rosamund (half -smiling). Nay ! 
RoLFE (coming to l. of Rosamund). Obligation? 
Opportunity ? 

(She shakes her head.) 

You seek it ? 

Rosamund. Sir . . . I think 'tis seeking me . . . 
RoLFE. Tell me its name, that I may seek it, too ! 
Rosamund. Hast thou ne'er fancied, just beyond 

thy dreams 



32 TN SARAMEDE. 

Something was lurking in the summer dusk . . . 
A breath, a secret, and a mystery . , . 
vSomething the night was trembhng to reveal . . . 
Something that brushed thy heart — yet touched thee 
not . . . 

RoLFE (sits L. of Rosamund). Tell me . . . 

Rosamund (dreamily). I dream there is a day 
will come. 
If I am humble, patient, selfless, . . . pure . . . ' 
When my heart's eyes will open to a face . . . 
My heart's ears to the whisper of a voice ... 
My heart's heart to the summons of ... a kiss ... 

(Pause.) 

Then will the Touch-stone strike upon my soul .... 

RoLFE. On truest gold, I swear ! Why, how the 
books 
Have drawn thee all awry ! I thought a maid 
Was but an idle, pretty, 'shallow thing, 
With childish hands to catch what ghttered best 1 
Instead, she is a treasury of grace. 
Filled with rare thoughts, and exquisite romance ! 
How are we blest 1 . . . Dream other maids as thou ? 

Rosamund. I know no maiden's dreams save mine 
alone. 
A maiden does not speak her dearest dreams 
Save to her secret heart ... 

(Suddenly pauses, startled, dazed, breathless. 

Yet ... / tell thee ! . . . 
Oh! . . . Why ? 

(Their eyes meet. She rises and turns as though to 
leave him. He catches her l. hand.) 

RoLFE. Nay, leave me not ! 

(He kisses her hand.) 

Rosamund (breathlessly). I pray thee, sir ! . . . 



IN SARAMEDE. 33 

{She withdraws her hand, Rolfe rises. Rosamund 
goes down r. slowly and exits r. i e.) 

Rolfe (passionately). Now know I all the secret 
of the rose ! 
Now could I read the message of the stars ! 
Set words unto the night-bird's pulsing song, 
And throb with all the throbbing heart of Spring ! 
Now am I justified, fulfilled, complete ! 
Now through me, as through all, God's purpose flows !. 
Now am I one upon the living chain 
That links Creation to Eternity ! 

[Goes out R.) 
End of Act I. 



ACT It. 

Afternoon of the same day. 

(Martha enters with Maud on her r. arm, IsrA on her 
L., enter l. 2 e. They come slowly down c, 
followed by Hilda, Perl a and Zinda, who come 
down behind log.) 

Maud. Beware ! Beware ! There is a lurking 

root ! 
IsRA. We would not have thee fall on thy dear 

nose, 
Sweet Martha ! 
Maud. Kindest soul ! 

Martha (chuckling). What's now, ye jades? 
Maud. 'Tis naught — that is. 
Isra. We love thee ! 

Martha. Baggages \ 

(Martha sits c. of log. Isra l. of her with back to 
audience. Maud and Hilda to r. of MarthA. 
Zinda l. Perla comes in front of log at Martha's 
feet. They sit.) 

What is't ye want of me ? Your honeyed words 
And coaxing eyes have purpose, that I'll swear ! 
Perla. Tell us now . . . where's the Prince ? 
Girls. Ay, where is he ? 

Martha. Belike he sleeps. Behke he's at his 

books. 
Hilda (disgustedly). His books ! 
Martha. Ay, pretty one ! 

34 



IN SARAMEDE. 35 

Hilda. ^^ ^°^^ ^^^ ^^^^ 

A man of hooks. He hath a royal air ^ 

Maud. Tell us, good Martha, if the Prince hath 
dwelt 
So long upon this Isle afar from man 

IsRA. And woman ! 

Maud. Then, how is it he hath caught 
The very manner of a lady's knight ? 

Martha. The Prince ? 

Zinda. Ay, sooth I I have not seen the like 
Save in my royal cousin t i t f t a I. 

Girls (singing loudly). i-a ! J^a i i^a . 

(Zinda pouts.) 

Marth \ By Cupid's bow, your shot is fallen wide I 
He hath no knowledge of your naughty ways 1 
He ne'er hath prest a waist, or sipped a lip, _ 
Or gazed in eyes, or played such courtiers tricks. 
In all his Ufe of eight-and-twenty years I 

Maud {with a little cough). Hath he not so, in- 
deed ? I am mistook 1 

(The Girls avoid each other's glances with vast uncon- 
sciousness.) 

Perla (nestling against Martha) Would it not 
please thee see thy nurseling wed ? 

(All draw closer. Martha looks from one to the other 
with a grin.) 

Martha. Maybe! Maybe! But where is there 

a bride ? . j , 

IsRA. One might be found ! -i , 

M\UD Perchance quite easily! 

Perla. Dost thou not think a gentle maid, and 

fair 

(Other Girls look dissenting-) 



38 IN^ SARAMEDE, 

ZiNDA. Who, sooth, can claim close kin , to 
Royalty— 

(Bus.) 

Maud. Who hath a merry way, and laughing 
eyes — 

' ■ (Bus.) 
Hilda. The very height to grace a ro^^al gown- 



IsRA. No o'erblown monster. Something slight, 
and small ! 

Martha. Ye rogues ! Ye teasing mischiefs ! 

Perla (sweetly). Well, perchance 

He hath already chose. . . . An hour ago 
Dear Ermyntrude withdrew to mend her robe 
/ saw no tear in. . . . And dear Fredaline 
Was very sure she had a stroke of sun. 

(Girls realize and sit up.) 

Maud. Why, sooth, 'tis true! 
Hilda (rising quickly). Think you they're with 
the Prince ? 

(Without waiting for an answer she turns and hurries 
off L. I. E., with a determined air.) 

Martha (chuckling) . Perchance ! Perchance 1 

ZiNDA (rises quickly). The scheming, wicked 
things 1 (Goes off l. 2 E.) 

Maud (rising goes up c. and off l. u.e., calling). 
Fredaline ! (Disappears,) 

Perla (rising, goes out l.i.e., calling). Dearest 
Ermie ! (Under her breath.) Little cat ! (Dis- 
appears.) 

Isra (who has been watching Martha, comes round 
L. of log to L. of her). Thou knowest where the 
Prince is, I believe ! 
Martha. Ay, that I do ! 



IN SAPvAMEDE. ' 37 

ISRA. Then tell, thou naughty dame ! 

Martha. Sure, he is with thy sister, the Princess. 
And hath been, hour on hour. 

IsRA (amazed and annoyed). With Rosamund? 

Martha. With Princess Rosamund, in very 
truth. 

Isra. What does he with her ? 

Martha. Why, I think, at last 

He hath took down and opened ... an old book 
He ne'er hath read in yet. Though all do, once, 
U but to glance upon the title-page . . . 
I, too, have read. . .. ay, very long ago I . . . 

Isra. I understand thee not ! How ? In what 
book ? 
With Rosamund ? . . . Oh, dear I 

Martha. See, here they come ! 

(They watch, as Rosamund and Rolfe (he above her) 
enter r. 2 e. ; they stop r. of tree. Isra Hirsts 
inta a merry laugh.) 

Isra. Thou wicked, naughty woman, with thy 

jests ! (Isra hurries out l. i. e.) 
Martha. What jests, thou little feather-brain ? 

How now ? 
Ay, me! (Sighs.) I am not needed more! . . . 

Ay, me ! . . . 

(Martha exits l. i e., as Rolfe and Rosamund comes 
hehw tree, then follows Isra off. Rolfe and 
Rosamund go c. She carrying flowers.) 

Rolfe. This sacred, dearest grove ! Tis here we 
met, 
Within the shadow-ring of this old tree ! 

(Rosa:\iund sits r. under tree, Rolfe l. of her.) 

Wilt rest thee ? Come ! I love thee ! Dost thou 
hear ? 



38 IN ^ara:>iede. 

(Rosamund hends her head over the flowers.) 

Give me a rose ! (She holds one to him.) 
Nay, nay, it something lacks ! 
It lacks the precious burden of a kiss ! 
But touch it to thy lips, and it will bloom 
For ever, in the fields of Paradise 1 

[She kisses one and gives it to him.) 

Dost know who kissed thee, rose ? Why, it was 

she, 
Rose-of-the-world, of whom thou'rt but a hint, 
A breath of all her sweetness . . . therefore dear 1 
(To Rosamund.) Art happy ? 
Rosamund. Ay ! 

RoLFE. Thou lov'st me ? Tell me so ! 

Rosamund. I love thee I 
RoLFE. Yet again f 

Rosamund (smiling. Why ? . . . Hast forgot ? 
RoLFE. Ay, all but thee ! All, all but only thee ! 
Rosamund. 'Tis little to remember ! 
RoLFE. Tis the world ! 

One world ? 'Tis all the sky's uncounted stars I 
Rosamund. I tremble at our happiness ! Oh, 
love, 
I am a woman, not a poet's dream ! 
When crossed, I may be angry, use sharp words, 
Be obstinate ! Where will thy stars be then ? 

RoLFE. 'Tis that thou art a woman I give thanks ! 
Why, storms but serve to keep the earth more green ; 
Snows overpast but make the spring more dear ! 
The unclouded passion of the ceaseless sun 
Sucks life from life, till naught but dust remains. 
Storm, if thou wilt, and keep my garden fair ! 
Rosamund. Love, if we had not met f It shakes 
my heart 
To think how finely balanced is our fate ! 

RoLFE. By all the Eternal Laws, we must have 
met ! 



IN SARAMEDE. 39 

We were two halves of a long-severed soul . . . 
Dost thou not feel ere Time was we were one'^ 

Rosamund. I cannot think a life without thea. 
now ... 

RoLFE. Is'tso, mylove? Is' t so, my Rosamund ? 

Rosamund. I did not know my name was half so 
sweet ! 

RoLFE. Dost know thou hast not whispered m3 
my name, 
Not once, since first I loved thee ? . . . 

Rosamund. That's .... an hour ! 

RoLFE. An aeon, sweet ! We do not measure 
time 
By march of sun, but by the pulse of hearts. 
Since sight of thee, mine own hath beat so fast 
Already I have loved thee ] ust as long 
As that same sun hath tramped his faithful course 1 
Dost know . . . thou hast not granted me ... a 

kiss, 
Since first I loved thee? 

Rosamund. Ah, not yet, not yet ! 

'Tis all so new, so strange ! ... I am a-whirl ! 
I fear to lose my very soul in thine ! . . . 
Nay, nay, I fear not, but . . . not yet ! 

RoLFE [very tenderly). My own ! 

{He kisses her hand. Sir Merlyn, with Ermyntrude 
on his R. arm, and Fredaline on his l., enter 
L.U.E., remain at back. Rosamund, raising her 
head sees them. Rolfe sees her look, follows it, 
and sees them.) 

Rosamund. The Prince ! 

Rolfe. The Prince ? [Rises, comes down R.). 
Ah . . . yes ! 

I had forgot. ... 
Rosamund. That mincing gallant is our Country's 
hope, ^ 

Our Land's defence ! (Rises, comes down R.) Uur 
Land that needs a man \ 



'^tO IN SARAMEDE. 

I had forgot, lost in these golden hours. 
The purpose ever steadfast in my mind . . . 
For danger threats. 

KoLFE [quickly). Danger? . . . I had not heard ! 
Rosamund. Doubtless they've kept it secret 
from the Prince. 
1 wonder not, indeed ! Dissensions rise. 
There are men say, " The King is old and ill. 
The Prince a dreamer. . . . Let us change the 
Line ! " . . . 
RoLFE. Now, by the stars, I have heard naught 
of this ! 
Tell me, belov'd ! 

Rosamund. There's treachery toward. 

(Rosamund and Rolfe go up to tree. Rosamund sits 
R. c, Rolfe standing, as Merlyn with Ermyn- 
TRUDE and Fredaline stroll do-wn c. They 
talk. Merlyn is in tke full tide of anecdotal 
oratory.) 

Sir Merlyn. Hundreds, 1 swear ! And I from 
very shame 
Was forced to hide. (Stops.) In sooth, was forced 

to hide, 
They pestered so ! (Walking.) Their husbands 

prayed me leave 
The town, ay, prest it at sword's point. (Stops.) 

Again 
In Bonavenla lived a little maid 
Who saw my picture once — but once ! — and died ! 
(Walks.) 
Fredaline. Only thy picture ! 
Sir Merlyn. And again (stops) in Spain 
A senorita . . . ah .^ . . . (Blows a kiss, walks.) 

Fredaline. Thou should'st not have 
Thy picture spread so wide. There's ill enough. 

(Sir Merlyn s^^s Rosamund, crosses to her ; Ermyn- 
trude and Fredaline go to r.c. level with tree, 



IN SARAMEDE. 41 

as HiLDx\, Perla, Maud and Zinda hurry on 

from L.u.E. ; they come to above log facing Ermyn- 

TRUDE and Fredaline.) 
Hilda. Stav ! Stay ! Did ye not hear me cry 

" hold on " ? 
Ermyntrude. We thought thou said'st " go on ! " 

and hurried more ! 

{Sils on log L.) 

Maud. Did'st mend thy gown. (Sniffs and sits 
above log L.) 'Tis neatly done, I swear, 
Why, one could almost think 'twas never torn ! 

Perla. How is thy stroke of sun, dear Fredaline ? 

Fredaline. 'Tis healed from wand'ring with a 
moon-struck fool. 

(Perla sniffs and comes down to l. oJ Maud.) 

Sir Merlyn (to Rosamund). Permit me share thy 
rustic couch, fair maid ! 

(Rosamund looks uneasy.) 

Girls (general moiement jorward jrom Girls). Oh, 

dear Sir Prince ! 
Maud. Here ! Here, upon this log ! 

(They pat log iniitingly.) 

Sir Merlyn (trying to combine a deprecating glance 
at Rosamund with a coy one at the Girls). For- 
give me, lady ! They are pressing me ! 

(Merlyn goes down l. to log, sits c. Girls all try to sit 
on log. Pe^la and Maud l. of him, Zinda, 
Hilda jrom tJie back, Ermyntrude and Freda- 
line R. oJ him — a musical chairs moiement.) 

How now, thou naughty maids ! Wilt have me so ? 

(Falls back oier log. They re-instate him.) . 

Zinda (hurrying round l. oj log to his Jeet). Dear 

Prince, hast met my royal c 

Girls (sneezing loudly). Ah-Tchoo ! 



42 IN SARAMEDE. 

Sir Merlyn. Thy what, dear maid ? 

ZiNDA. My cousin Hi 

Girls. Ah-TCHOO ! ! 

(ZiNDA desists.) 

Sir Merlyn {a little puzzled). I do not know the 
name. 

(Isra runs in l.u.e., and down c, well below log.) 

IsRA. Ah, there ye be ! 

Ye lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy ones! 
Come, wake ye ! Rouse ye ! Dearests, ye'll grow 

fat! 
[Ciirtseys.) Sir Prince, naught's Hke tlie dance to keep 

one slim ! 
(As thou art !) Freda a measure with me, now ! 

Maud (jumping up). Let us all dance ! 

Girls (ditto). Yes, yes ! 

Isra. Come then ! (To Merlyn.) Sir Prince ? 

Sir Merlyn. Nay, nay, I have forgot my steps ! 

Isra. Ah, sir, 

Can'st thou refuse me ? Wliy then, I protest 
I'm not, 'tis very plain, quite to thy mind ! 

(He protests.) 

Oh, I will dance with Zinda ! And for thee, 
Jake thee another maiden ! Maud ! Where's Maud? 
Come hither ! Dear, the Prince would dance with 
thee ! 

Sir Merlyn. Nay, nay } 

Maud (laughing). Nay ? 

(Sir Merlyn horribly distressed.) 

Isra. Sir, perchance she'll please thee more I 
(Joining their hands.) Ah ! 'Tis a match so ! 
Sir Merlyn. Sweet one ! I . . . 
Isra (clapping her hands). Begin ! 

(All dance, except Rolfe a^id Rosamund deep in talk.) 



IN SARAMEDE. 43 

' Fredaline. Had he his picture painted thus, 

in sooth 
It could prove naught but fatal I 

Perla. Ah ! He's sweet ! 

Dear Isra, 'tis a clever little maid ! 

Hilda Pooh ! There are others dance as well 
0? f as Maud ! 

^^ Perla. I meant not that. 

[The dance goes on.) 

ZiNDA. I would that ye could see 

(Girls put their fingers to their ears. Suddenly 
\ RoLFE rises. As he does so the music stops.) 

RoLFE. Why, then, the night of dreams is over- 
past, 
The dawn of action's here ! Cease, friends, I beg ! 

{Dance breaks up. All look amazed.) 

Pray give us leave ! {Touches Sir Merlyn on the 
shoulder.) 

I've much to say to thee, 
Come thou apart awhile ! {Going.) 

There's work to do ! . . . 

(RoLFE and Sir Merly.^ exit l. u. e. Sir Merlyn 
goes like a lamb. The Girls look at each otlier in 
surprise.) 

IMaud. Ye saw ! 

ZiNDA. A very rude young man ! 

Hilda. Were I 

The Prince, I would have hacked me off his head f 

Perla. He's such a gentle sweet ! 

Ermyntrude {holding her dress as though it were 
torn). There now ! Again ! 
I must to Martha ! {Goes out l. u. e.) 

Maud {winking at the others). I'll companion thee ! 

{Runs out ajter her.) 



44 IN SARAMEDE. 

Fred ALINE {ghes a deep groan, clutches her head 

and goes up c.) 
Perla. Dearest, thou'rt ill ! Thou should'st 

not go alone ! 

(•Fredaline hurries out, Perla follows. Zinda 
and Hilda turn simultaneously and catch each 
other's eye, then suddenly burst into a silent walk- 
ing-race. They disappear c, Hilda well in the 
lead. Rosamund is leaning against the tree, deep 
in thought. Isra goes to l. oj tree and sits on 
bank. She sees Rosamund is Jar away, so gives 
a loud sigh.) 

Rosamund (turning, with a smile). Hast left the 

hunt, my little sister ? 
Isra. Ay ! 

Rosamund. Art wearied of thy madcap fancy ? 
Isra. Nay. . . . 

Rosamund. Fray Heaven give him swiftly many 

tongues 
To rouse the Prince see where his duty lies ! 

Isra {bridling a little on behalf of the pseudo Prince^ 
with a rather annoyed lilile glance at Rosamund). 

He hath a noble soul ! 

Rosamund [mistaking her). Indeed he hath ! 

Isra. A kind and loving heart ! 

Rosamund. Thou seest it, too ? 

Isra. A very gentle knight ! 

Rosamund. Gentle, but strong ! 

Isra (pensiiely). Perchance ! Perchance ! 

Rosamund. Indeed, a Prince of men ! 

Isra. He's that, in sooth, of right ! But I could 
wish 
He were not quite so high ! 

Rosamund. Nay, fret thee not, 

He's human, too. 

Isra. I trust so ! 

Rosamund. Ah ! ... I know. 



IX SARAMEDE. 45 

ISRA. Thou dost ? 

Rosamund. Who should but I, who httle thought 
When I set out upon this whimsied quest, 
That I should find my Prince of Dreams indeed ! 
Be called to rule the Kingdom of his heart ! 

IsRA. What say'st thou, Rosamund ? 

Rosamund. Art angry, dear ? 

Dost think he is too low for me ? 

IsRA {petulantly). Too low? 

He hath an ample height, a healthy height ! 
I hate your may-pole men ! 

Rosamund. W^hy, Isra dear ? 

IsRA {slowly rising). He doth not love thee ! 

Rosamund. Ay, indeed he doth ! 

Isra {stamping her Joot). Oh, dear! oh, dear! 
'Tis as the old nurse said. 
Only I'd not believe her ! ■ 

Rosamund. Dearest chick, 

It sure is naught to thee ! 

Isra. Nay, then, it is ! 

Ne'er have I known such greed in thee before 1 

Rosamund. Greed ? 

Isra. Greed ! 

Rosamund. I understand thee not ! 

Isra. Just . . . greed ! 

Rosamund. But thou hast scarce had speech o( 
him ! 

Isra. What, I? 

Thou thinkest that because I have not hung 
All day about his neck, as others have ! 

Rosamund. As others have? {Rises a little tc,y 
Isra.) How now, thou wayward child ! . 
Dar'st speak unto thy sister thus ? 

Isra. 'Tis hard, 

'Tis passing hard ! I have not often seen 
A gallant that did seize my fancy so ! 

Rosamund. Thy fancy, feather-head ! He's not 
for thee. 
Isra. I'd not swear to't were I thee, Rosamund, 



46 IN SARAMEDE. 

For he hath whispered in mine ear 

Rosamund (sternly). Be still ! 

[More lightly.) Thou att a mischievous and idle child. 
Thy fancies lead thee very far astray. 
Return unto thy playmates. Keep thy tongue 
From wagging o'er the name of him I love ! 
ISRA {stamping her Joot in a small jury). Bah ! 1 

{Runs out L. I E.) 

Rosamund. Foolish little maid ! Another toy 
Will swift replace an idle moment's choice ! . . . 
1 wonder not he's dreamed away his days ! 
Who would not dream in such a world as this ! 
The dim, green home of her, whose healing breath 
Blows resinous from yonder dreaming trees ... 

{Song.) 

{At end oj song Rosamund to sit c. of log. Sir 
Merlyn enters l.u.e., comes down c.) 

How fares he -with the Prince ? Perchance there lies 
In that complacent soul, a vital seed 
Awaiting the compelling of the sun — 

Truth's sun {Sees Sir Merlyn). It is the 

Prince. . . I would I dared ! . . . 
{Impulsively Rosamund rises, a step to Merlyn.) Sir I 

Sir Merlyn. Lady ? 

Rosamund. May I, dare I ask of thee 

If the appeal unto thy heart is vain ? 
I think thou can'st not guess the depth of love 
That but awaits thy call ! 

Sir Merlyn {surprised hut coy). Madam . . . 
indeed I 

Rosamund {seeing his surprise). Hath he not spoke 
to thee but now ? 

Sir Merlyn {still puzzled). He hath ! 

Rosamund. Then give me leave speak for myself ! 

Sir Merlyn. What! What! 



iisr saraMede. 4:1 

Rosamund. An hundred, hundred hearts hold thee 

at core 1 
Sir Merlyn. I know it, madam ! 'Tis no fault 

of mine ! 
Rosamund. No fault ? Nay then, 'tis time to 
prove it now ! 
Could I but touch thy heart to wake response ! 
But find the words to pierce into thy soul . . . 
Lacking thee, sir, the end comes very soon. . . . 
Sir Merlyn. The end ? Nay," nay, dear maid 
that must not be ! 
I would I were not quite so fatal ! 
Rosamund (puzzled). Sir? 

Sir Merlyn. I would that there were more of me 1 
Rosamund (looking at him). More, sir ? 

I fear I do not follow. 
Sir Merlyn (as Kosamui^d gets lisibly uneasier). 
Sweetest chuck, 
If I should grant thy pray'r, why, there are those 
On whom 'twould fall as a most mighty blow ! 
Rosamund. I would that it should fall right 

speedily ! 
Sir Merlyn (holding up his finger) . Nay, nay ! Be 
kind ! They would be sore displeased ! 
Indeed, to tell thee true. ... I am afraid. _ . . . 
Rosamund. Afraid ? (Pause.) How foohsh I 

thus to have hoped ! 
Sir Merlyn. Let me thy brother be, or else thy 

coz 1 
Rosamund. Jest not with me, I am too sore at 
heart. (Rosamund sits l.' of log.) 
Sir (bitterly.) I have dreamed of thee for many years ! 
Sir Merlyn (surprised hut flattered to death). For 
many years ? 

(Merlyn sits R. of Rosamund.) 

Say on, fair maid, say on ! (Encouragingly.) ^ 
Rosamund. Always of one all gracious, knightly, 
bold, 



48 IN SAHAMEDE. 

With splendid presence to compel the world, 
Fearless and chivalrous, a soul of fire ! 

Sir Merlyn. Why, thou hast seen me, then, ere 

this ! 
Rosamund {turning Jrom him with hopeless disgust). 
Nay, sir. 
Save in my dreams. 

Sir Merlyn. And yet thou hast me pat ! 

Rosamund [rises, then go s r. quickly). Oh! 

Sir Merlyn {rises). Nay, then, pretty one, nay, 

fly me not ! 
Rosamund. Oh, sir . . . 
Sir Merlyn {comes to l. oJ Rosamund). Nay, fear 

me not ! 
Rosamund. My fear is for 

Myself, and those betrayed hearts I love. . . . 
Sir Merlyn. What ! What ! Nay, thou can'st 
trust me, that I swear ! 
Come, sit with me beneath this sheltering tree ! 

{Takes her arm.) 

Rosamund. Release me, sir ! {He drops her arm 
quickly.) 

Nor venture 'neath that tree 
Lest it should blast thee ! {Terrified, he looks Jrom 
her to tree.) 

'Tis a sacred place. 
It hath known death of hope and birth of love. . . . 
Keep thou thy flat and foolish feet from it ! 

(/Rosamund crosses Merlyn to l. i e., and exit.) 

Sir Merlyn {mortified and amazed). My flat and 
foolish Zounds ! The maid is crazed ! 

Or bhnd ! BeHke both crazed and bhnd, in sooth 1 

My flat and fooUsh — flat, and fooHsh ! — ^Tcha ! . . . 

(Going.) Good lack ! I' faith ! Did'st ever hear 
the like ! . . . 

My fla— nay, nay! Tcha ! Pooh! The maid is 
crazed ! . . . ^ 



IN SARAMEDE. 49* - 

(Sir Merlyn exits R. i e., muttering and holding up 
his Jeet in turn to look at them.) 

(RoLFE and Martha enter l.u.e., coming c. He has 
his hand on her shoulder and is talknig earnestly. 
He is all the man of action now.) 

RoLFE. So, seest thou, when the boat returns at 
eve 
To take the maidens hence to Saramede, 
I go with them. There is a traitor there. 
My father is too old to stand alone, 
Too old to see beneath the smilmg face 
To the foul heart. My Land hath need of me. 

Martha (they stop). Why, lad, what s come to 
thee ? , , 

RoLFE. My manhood s dawn 

That hath been so delayed. The sun is ris'n. 
Dreams fly when day begins ! 

Martha. Now, by the Rood, 

My nursehng surely stands a man indeed, 
A Prince in very truth 1 How wert thou waked ? 

RoLFE. A goddess stooped and breathed upon 

M^THA. Dear lad, mine eyes are old, but quick 

to see 1 
Thou hast been very close to my old heart. . . . 
There 1 There ! Youth trurns to youth I i trow 

me well. 
She is a maiden to adorn the Crown 1 
RoLFE. She is the Crown itself 1 
Martha. Thou't make her Q^f ^4. , , , ^ 

RoLFE. Ay, if there's grace mHeavn I With her 

beside. 
Her noble faith to strengthen my right arm> 
Her sure, high spirit for my soul's remede, 
A weakhng I, in truth, were I to fail I ^ 

Martha Indeed, I thank the idle wind of )est 
That bore these maidens hither I Well,the. jades^ 

t 



50 IN SARAMEDE. 

They said thou should'st be wed! They'll have their 

will 
If not their wish ! 'Twas, " Think you he will wed 
A maid like . . . thus and so ? " Each innocent 
Preferred her mirror's picture as a guide ! 

{During this Rolfe to tree, sits.) 

Eh, but I'll gladly see the world again, 

I had forgot the flavour . , . 'tis so long. . . . 

{Babbling reminiscently.) 

Rolfe. 'Twill be full night before the city's 
reached, 
And so, unknown, unseen, I'll be within 
The Palace walls ere treachery can coil. 

(Rolfe rises, going down r.) 

I seem to stand in Action's very heart ! 
Roads open out to me where-e'er I gaze ! . . . 
Heav'n give me pow'r choose wisely and act swift \ 
Ah, I am waked indeed ! ; . . 

(Rolfe exits R. i E.) 

Martha {sitting under tree). Give thanks for it \ 
It is a gracious day for Saramede ! 

(Rosamund enters l. i e. singing. Martha watches 
her.) 

Rosamund. Ah, nurse, I did not see thee ! 

Martha. Hither, maid (Rosamund hithers). 

And let me look into thy face ! (Rosamund kneels). 

And so , 

Thou, lightly come upon a summer jest. 
Hast touched a dreamer and hast found a man f 

Rosamund. - -Ah^"-he hath told thee, then ? 

Martha. Maid, I have eyes 1 

Rosamund. 'Tis true he loves me. 



IN SABAMEDE. 51^ 

MARTHA (teasingly) Say'st thou so indeed? . 
Tint thou thou lov'st him not at all, I swear ! 

ROSAMUND. Thoushould'st not swear, 'tis wrong 
—and foolish, too. 
For thou art much mistook ! 

MARTHA (chucklmi). Tush ! Tell me not ! _ 

Rosamund. Hast seen my sister ? I do seek for 

Martha. Good sooth, I have so ! 'Tis a merry 

Wou7d find the Prince a bride, eh ? Well, the Prince 
Hath found one for himself, ha '. ha ^^ ^ 

Rosamund. ,,,.,, i 

Martha. " Hath he, indeed ! 

ROSAMUND. ./'^TiTei 

What hath thy lover so misled thee then ? 
Did he not, whisp'nng in thine ear his love. 
Whisper his purpose, too ? 

Rosamund. His piirpose How . 

Martha. To make thee Qaeen ! 

Rosamund. To make me Queen. . . - ^^^^., 

Th^'PriiKe must come into his kingdom soon. 
(Ros.AMUND rising slowly.) 

The old King fails. ^, _ . , 

ROSAMUND (aghast). The Prince! 

Martha What ails thee, maid. 

Since the Prince loves thee, and would wed with thee ! 
Thou know'st it! Prince I 

ROS.AMUND ikon.fie,). ^^f 3-,%^rurse! 
ThS"^ the blood! What did'st thou think? 

If evir'l *"* .' nay, see ! Thou hast awoke 

The sleeping passion of his P^^tnot souL 

He swears by Heaven's grace to make thee y 



53 IN" SARAMEDE. 

He saith thou wilt be strength, and faith, and life 
Unto the King ! The very Crown itself ! 

Rosamund [in agony). He loves me not ! (Goes 

down below log). 
Martha. Because he'd make thee Queen ? 

Nay, come from out thy foolish world of dreams I 
Heav'n give the maiden sense. (Coming down to 

Rosamund at l.) Can he not be 
Thy lover still when thou art wed ? 

(Rosamund s/n^s down on log with a cry and hides her 
face.) 

How now ? 
If thou art not in truth the strangest maid ! . . . 

(Looks at her puzzled, then turns to go.) 

Ill send thy love to thee ! He'll read thee sense ! 
(Martha hurries off r. i e.) 

- (Goes out R.) 

Rosamund. Oh, I am all distraught ! My heart 
is broke ! 
Oh, I am shamed indeed ! That he could dream 
To use me so. . . . Oh, Heav'n ! I did not know 
There was such pain at all ! To wed the Prince 
And love . . . him ! Horrible ! That was his aim 1 
The lofty purpose of his patriot soul ! 
Would I were blind, who see it all . . . too clear ! 
He willed to use me ! Use the pow'r at back ! 
Command the Throne, through me, and rule the King-!- 
Oh ! . . . horrible indeed ! How easily 
His foolish prey was trapped ! A look, a smile, 
A word, a touch of hand . , . the thing was done ! 

(RoLFE enters r. i e., coming to Rosamund at log.) 

ROLFE. Is aught amiss, dear love ? 



IN SARAMEDE. f.3 

liosAMU^D (with a sound of horror). Ah! . . 

RoLFE. Rosamund ! 

Rosamund. Ay, Rosamund, poor fool ! 
[He puts his hand on her shoulder. She writhes away.) 
Nay ! Nay ! . . . 

RoLFE. What's here ? 

Thou shrinkest as though poisoned, from my touch ! 
What's here ? 

Rosamund. It is my soul that shrinks from 
thee! 
Keep back ! I would not have thy shadow fall 1 . . . 

RoLFE. Mine ears are crazed ! They cannot hear ' 
aright ! 
Nay, thou art surely held in some foul dream ! 
Awake thee, love, awake ! 

Rosamund (rises). I am awake . . . 

And ne'er shall dream again. . . . 

RoLFE. What horror's here ? 

What spell hath fallen on thy gentle heart ? 
What madness darts from out thy loving eyes, 
And parts the tender gate-way of thy lips 
To lay waste all our new- won world of joy ! 

Rosamund. Ah, mock me not ! I know thee . . . 
as thou art ! 

(Pause.) 

RoLFE. Ah ! . . . thou hast learnt the truth of 
me ? Indeed, 
I feel much shame to have deceived thee so. 
But, love, be not thus angered ! 'Twas a whim. 
Born of a summer fancy, and a mood ! 
A light jest lightly played, without a thought 1 
And when, anon, in thine eyes deepest truth 
I saw my life's dawn rise ; and knew it was 
Myself that thou did'st love, and not the Prince, 
'Twas sweet to play it longer ! 

Rosamund. Ah ! each word 

Thou utterest makes insult sharper edged ! 



^ IN SAI^AMEDE. 

ROLFE. Is it an insult, then, that 'tis the Prince 
Who loves thee, not some nameless churl ? 

(Pause.) 

Rosamund. Go ! I can bear no more ! 

(Sir Merlyn enters r. i e.) 

RoLFE. Thou art unjust ! 

Rosamund. Unjust ! 

RoLFE. I thought thy spirit was too rare 
For such small angers. 

Rosamund. Small ! 

RoLFE. Ay, very small ! 

A small hurt pride, that writhes, and turns, and stings! 
Where is my maid of dreams ? . . . 

Rosamund (brokenly). She is no more. . . 

(Rosamund crosses to c. Turns on Sir Merlyn 

{impetuously.) 

Sir, I will wed with thee 1 

(RoLFE starts forward. Sir Merlyn's jaw drops.) 

Sir Merlyn. Madam ! . . . You said ? . . . 

Rosamund. Sir, I will wed with thee ! 
RoLFE. Nay, Rosamund ! 

Rosamund. Be silent \ (To Sir Merlyn.) Sir, 

what sayst thou ? 
Sir Merlyn (terribly scared). Madam !...!... 
Rosamund. Not here ! Give me thine arm ! 

Lead me apart ! 

(Rosamund and Merlyn exit r. i e. She takes 
his arm and gees out in a white whirl of anger 



1 



IN SARAMEDE. 55 

and impulse. He is frightened out of his wits 
and very wobbly at the knees.) 

RoLFE. Rosamund ! . . . Rosamund ! . . . . 

(Follows them out with every sign of horror and amaze- 
ment.) 



End of Act IL 



ACT III. 

Evening, towards sunset. 

(Fredaline, Maud and Zinda appear at different 
pdints ; Maud, r. i e. ; Zinda, l. i e. ; Freda. 
LINE, R. 2 E., walking slowly and gloomily. They 
are followed almost immediately by Perla, Hilda 
and Ermyntrude. Perla, l. 2 e. ; Hilda, 
R.u.E. ; Ermyntrude, l.u.e.) 

Maud [flopping down under tree c). Heigho ! 
Zinda {flopping l. of Maud). Heigho ! 
Fredaline (r. of Maud). Heigho ! 

[Pause. Others draw near.) 

Maud. 'Twill soon be dark. 
Fredaline. Ay, very soon ! I think a storm will 
come. 

[Pause.) 

Perla [sits below Zinda and looks at them. They 
all turn their heads to look at her. Then she speaks. 

Heigho ! 
Hilda (sits below Fredaline). Heigho ! 
Ermyntrude [sits l. of Zinda). Heigho I 
Perla. Dear Rosamund, 

We have not wished her joy ! 

[All look gloomy.) 



IN SABAMEDE. 57 

Fredaline (with decision). I shall not. 

ZiNDA. Nay, 

Nor I, indeed 4 

Hilda. Good sooth, but she has had 

Her fancy's fling, and plucked the prize as well 1 

Ermyntrude {very softly). Heigho ! 

Hilda. Where is the Prince ? 

Maud, He sits apart 

With head on hand, as* though he tooth-ache 

had, 
And puffs, and pales, and starts at sound of voice. 

ZiNDA. In truth, he looks as one who's suffered, 
shock. 

Fredaline. And Isra sits afar beneath a tree. 
And will not speak, and hath red eyes, and sighs 1 

Maud. Oh, 'tis a happy day ! 

Fredaline. Ay, that it is ! 

I've sledom known another such — thanks be ! 

Perla. We should rejoice for Rosamund ! 

(Martha enters l. i e.) 

Maud. We do ! 

'Tis why we have this air of jollity, 
Because we are so pleased. . . . Heigho ! 

All Girls. Heigho ! ! 

Martha (c. of log, below it, stops). Why, what a 
wintry blast of grief is here 1 
Fetch not the leaves from off the trees, I pray ! 
Are these my merry maidens ? What hath chanced, 
To change ye to such images of woe ? 

Maud. Hast thou not heard our Prince is caught ? 

Martha. I have! 

Maud. Then ask not why we weep ! 

Martha. I' faith, 'tis odd I 

For the Princess is as distraught as ye ! 
Perchance her fortune hath bemused her brain. 
But as for ye, I am at guess to know 
Why ye should mourn ! Your game was otherwhere. 



68 IN SARAMEDE. 

Ye chattered of the Prinee, 'tis very true, 
And W3ve your toils around another knight, 
Our poor Sir Merlyn, who hath gone stark mad 
From such deep drinking of the cup ye poured ! 

[Girls stare at her.) 

Maud. Sir Merlyn ! - 

Hilda. Tush ! 

Fredaline. Go to ! 

Martha (a step or two to c.) Now, baggages, 

Have I not seen ye gathered round his feet, 
And hanging on his lips, the livelong day ? 
And the poor spul hath purred with tickled pride, 
His fat cheeks creased with smiles, and hath not seen 
Ye were at jest with a slow-witted fool ! 

[Pause.) 

Maud. But that . . . [rises) that was the 

Prince ! 
Girls. Of course ! 

Martha. What ? He ! 

The Prince, forsooth ! Ha ! ha ! 

[Sees their dumbfounded faces.) 

How now ? What's here ? 
Hilda [slowly rising). Dost thou then say that 
man is not the Prince ? 
That little . . . fat . . . round . . . 

Martha. That's Sir Merlyn, maid ! 

Girls. What !■ ! 

Hilda. Then the Prince is-^Girls, we have been 
fools ! 

[The rest of the girls rise.) 

Fredaline. How dared the httle fright deceive 
us so ! 



1 



IN SARAMEDE. 59 

I'd have him whipped at cart's tail ! 

ZiNDA. Worse than that ! . . . 
I'll tell my Cousin Hill 

Perla (coming l. of Zixda, puts her right arm round 
ZiNDA and her left hand over Zinda's mouth.) 
Nay, softly, friends ! 
Remember our sweet Rosamund is pledged 
To wed this . . . humble gentleman I 

Girls {jumping with joy). Aha ! . . . 

Maud. Why, sooth, 'tis so ! 

Martha (puzzled) . Nay, nay, she'll wed the Prince . 

(Girls laugh and surround her.) 

Maud. The Prince, thou simple soul ! We all 
had deemed 
Our little fat-cheeked gentle was the Prince ! 

(Martha amazed, then tickled.) 

Hilda. We thought yon handsome youth was but 

a Knight, 
No game for us 1 
Martha. Where got ye this idea ? 

Fredaline. Why, Isra had it first ! 
Girls. Yes, yes, 'twas she ! 

Maud. Nay, come and tell her, then ! 'Twill 

cheer her grief ! 
Perla. And let's go seek our dearest Rosamund 1 

(Girls and Martha exit l. 2 e. Martha laughing 
and holding her sides.) (Rolfe enters R. i E., 
comes slowly to c, deep in thought.) 

Rolfe. The sun leans down towards the sea's far 
rim. 
Night's curtain loosens from its day-bound folds. 
Life's finger crooks to turn another page, 
Point to another chapter, where is writ 



60 IN SARAMEDE. 

The plain word " Duty "... and a word scored 

through 
As soon as traced ! Why was it writ at all ? . . . 

(Looks around.) 

And so, farewell . . . dear silent friends of mine ! 
And thou '(laying hand on tree), farewell, whose aged 

arms have nursed 
The dreams of boyhood, youth, and later years . . . 
And who hast shadowed my short dream of love. 
How short ! How frail ! Scarce had its leaves put 

forth 
Ere, sere and dry, they fell ... as thine must do ! 
But thou wilt know another spring ... I, none ! 

(RoLFE sits L. oj tree. Martha enters l. 2 e., coming 
to L. oj RoLFE, still laughing and wiping her 
eyes.) 

Martha. Were ever maids so crazed ! Ha ! ha ! 
The Prince ! 
Oh, me ! The Prince, indeed 1 The Prince ! Ho ! 
Ho! 
RoLFE. Why, what hath seized thee, my good 

soul ? 
Martha (weakly). Oh, sir, 

Oh, dear Sir Knight ! Ha ! ha ! The Prince, for- 
sooth ! 
RoLFE. What ails thee ? 

Martha. Sir, what think you ! They have took 
Sir Mer — Sir Mer — Sir Merlyn for the Prince ! 

(Voice going up in a squeak.) 

RoLFE, I know ... I know ... It was in 
truth my jest. 
To shield me from these — wife-providing maids. 
But it hath turned a sword within my hand. 
And hath plunged deep into a heart most dear ! 

Martha. The Princess Rosamund ? 



I 



r 



IN SARAMEDE. 61 

RoLFE. Ay ! . . . 

Martha. Hath she took 

The jest amiss ? . . . I mind me it was / 
Told her the Prince both loved her and would wed ! 
'Faith, if she took Sir Merlyn for thyself 
Small wonder she was so distraught, poor maid I 
' RoLFE. Why . . . {Rises.) What is this ? 
Martha. What, sir ? 

RoLFE. Say on ! Say on ! 

When saidst thou that ? 
Mx\RTHA. An hour or two agone. 

RoLFE. What else ? Come, tell me quickly, 

quickly ! 
Martha. Sir, 

I said that thou had'st sworn to make her Queen. 
She turned from me as from a poison snake 
Crying, " He does not love me ! " " Why ? " said I, 
" Because he'd make thee Queen ? Can he not be 
Thy lover still when thou art wed?" And she 
Hiding her face, sank down as 'neath a blow ! 
RoLFE. Oh, Heav'n ! Then came I hastily, and 
she 
Turned from me with white scorn ! And I reproached 
And taunted her ! Oh, fool {moves down R. c.) to jest 

with Fate ! 
What dreadful thing thought she I purposed her ! 
What insult, and what horrid perfidy ! . . . 
Martha {looking l.). Here comes the maid ! 
RoLFE {comes to Martha, pushing her behind him 

towards R.). Withdraw thee swiftly ! Go I 
Martha (going). Nay, sir, I am no dolt 1 Need'st 
bid me not ! 
Though, 'faith, I think thy wooing will be hard ! 
Perchance she'll not forgive thee ! There ... I go ! 

(Martha exits r. i e., as Rosa^iv^b, enters l. 2 e._ 
RoLFE is at R., {hidden from Rosamund by tree.)^ 

Rosamund. One little day ! One httle grain^ of 
Time 



g2 IN SARx\MEDE. 

From Life's clutched handful of the eternal sand ! 

Yet long enough to break a heart m I Ah, 

I do most clearly see I was at fault ! 

I know that he is noble, upright true. 

And with a larger view of duty s debt ^ . . 

He held me fit to strengthen our poor Prince, 

And yielded his own dream to serve his Land . . . 

Then I'll be noble, too ! My Country s good 

Hold first, and justify his sacrifice ! . . . 

Though I must love him . . . love him till I die . . . 

RoLFE draws near, l. oj her. She puts her arms 
round tree.) 

Wilt tell him this, dear tree, in all the years 
That stretch away to carry us apart, 
There'll be one secret door that none shall ope. . . . 
It leads to my heart's heart. I lay the key 
Here in thy gracious shade. Keep fast its grave ! 
Farewell, dear tree! {Kisses tree.) Farewell, oh, 
dearer love ! 

(Rosamund sinks on hank l. oj tree. Rolfe comes 
slowly to R. oj her.) 

Rolfe. I have no words to tell tell of my shame ! 

Rosamund {atjer a startled pause, leaning weakly 
against tree). Thy shame, sir? 

Rolfe. For the hurt I've put on thee, 

Mo>t dear and worshipped maiden ! 

Rosamund. Nay . . . what hurt .-' 

Rolfe. My very love hath hurt thee. 

Rosamund. 'Lis a pam 

I'd not have missed, indeed. 

Rolfe. I thank thee, sweet ! 

But now thou may'st forget thy suffering. 
For all is clear, and shines the sun again ! - 
Wed by the grace of Heav'n, I came to bid 
Farewell to love and thee . . . and here I find 



IN SABAMEDE. ■ 63 

Both love and thee . . . my own ! For I have 

caught 
Some part of thy dear speech ! Thou lov'st me still, 

(RoLFE kneels to Rosamund.) 

My Rosamund! My soul's best ! My hfe's crown ! 

{Catches her hand and kisses it. She turns her head 
Jrom him.) 

Why lookest thou from me with such sad eyes ? 

Rosamund. Sir, I have pondered much in these 
last hours. . . . 
I have much sorrowed for my doubt of thee . . . 
I am much shamed at my unruly words . . . 
For I, who looked to feel the Touch-stone's stroke 
Upon my soul, shrank back at the first blow. 
But thou hast made my duty plain to me, 
And I would prove true metal, so {rises) farewell \ 

RoLFE {puzzled, rising). Nay, why farewell ! I 
sail with thee at eve ! 

Rosamund {startled). Ah no ! Thou dost not 
come to Saramede ! 
Ah, no ! 

RoLFE. Why, Rosamund? 

Rosamund. If I must do 

The thing I've vowed, then come not thou anear ! 

RoLFE. What must thou do ? 

Rosamund. Thou know'st that I must wed . . . 

RoLFE. Thou dost not mean ... no, no, 'twas 
idly said ! 
Thou canst not mean to hold thee to that vowl 

Rosamund. What art thou saying ? 

Rqlfe. I am all astray ! 

■Rosamund. Did I not pledge my word at thy 
behest ? 

Rolfe. At my behest ? 



64 IN SARAMEDE. 

Rosamund. What else ? 

RoLFE. What folly's here ? 

I do command thee to love none but me ! 

Rosamund. I am not sworn to love him, but . . . 
to wed. 

RoLFE. Art sworn at my behest ? 

Rosamund. Thou know'st it, well ! 

If I am strong, my duty is full clear. . . . 
Sustain the frail, be right-arm to the weak ... 
Lend him what courage I am mistress of, 
That he may strive to face the world ... a man I. 
If thou hast eyes to see the need of it, 
Then I have will to face the pain of it . . . 
So thou come not. . . . 

RoLFE. What tangled maze is here ? 

Sworn at my will, and pledged at my behest ? 
This is the maddest coil e'er daunted wits ! 
'Tis / who need thee ... I and Saramede ! 

Rosamund. I understand thee not . . . my vow, 
once giv'n. 
Abides as doth thine own. The two are one 
Since both serve but one end ! 

RoLFE. My vow, belov'd ? 

Rosamund. Hast thou not vowed to make me 
Queen ? 

RoLFE. Ay, sooth ! 

Rosamund. Then hear my vow ! I swear hence- 
forth to live 
For my dear Land, and for my Country's weal ! 
I vow to wed none other than her Prince, 
Since wedding him. I best may serve her so ! 
I vow to be her Queen 

RoLFE. I hold thee there ! 

Thou sJialt be Queen, and love me with thy soul I 
Dearest, thou art astray ! Nay, trust me, then ! 
I thought that thou had'st learnt the truth of me . . . 
But wait . . . and trust me ! I'll go search for him 
Thou thinkest thou art pledged to ! Keep thy vow ! 
Thou Shalt be Queen indeed! ' ■ ' '■■ - 



IN SARAMEDE. 65 

^{Kisses her hami and exits r. i e. Rosamund hewiU 
dered goes to tree and sinks on hank r. of it and 
hides her face in her hands. Sir Merlyn 
enters l. u. e., gloomy and plunged in thought. 
He is followed by Isra, who, unseen by him, stalks 
him with a determined, if melancholy, air. Rosa- 
mund, is.zn^^wife/^ to them. Sir Merlyn comes 
down c, sits r. of log. Isra comes down l. 
sits L. ofiog.) 

Isra. 'Tis strangely difficult to be alone ! 

Sir Merlyn (rising, with a groan). Thy pardon 

lady. ... 
Isra (quickly) . Stay! Where dost thou go ? 
Would leave me to be mauled by hungry beasts, 
Or hugged to death by bears ? 

Sir Merlyn (sitting near her). Thriee happy 
bears ! 

'Isra gives him a glance. He edges towards her:) 

Isra. Would be a bear, to slay me even so ? 
Sir Merlyn. Nay, but would hold thee in mine 
arms till Death 1 

(Putting his arm round her.) 

Isra (having got what she wanted, becomes promptly 
virtuous) . I thank thee . . . brother / 

(He withdraws her arm with a gloomy start.) 

There ! I'll stay thee not ! 
I would not keep thee from thy raptured tryst, 
For who am I ? Go ? Leave me here to die ! 
Sir Merlyn. I ask but leave to die with thee !■ 

(KosAMUND, roused, begins unconsciously to listen'^ 



66 IN SARAMEDE. 

IsRA. Oh, sir 

'Tis brotherly indeed to say me so 1 
I'm very sure my sister would be joyed. 

(He mutters something.) 

What dost thou say ? Some tender word of her? 

(Rosamund rises and watches them, amazed.) 

Ah \ What was that ? Dost think it was a bear ? 
Sir Merlyn. I will protect thee, maiden ! 
IsRA (promptly). Hold my hand ! 

(He does so.) 

'Tis naught ! There, I'll not trouble thee ! 
Sir Merlyn (detaining her hand) . Nay ! nay ! 

(Pause. They sit hand in hand. Then he slips his 
arm absent-mindedly round her waist.) 

Isra (with a sigh). I wonder . . . brother . . . 
had'st thou not been Prince 
If . . . if . . . 

Sir Merlyn. If ? . . . Tell me then \ 

Isra. Ah, me! I would 

That thou wert but a simple gentleman ! 

Sir Merlyn. I am. 

Isra. Yea, thou art simple, it is true. 
'Tis why I love thee. 

Sir Merlyn (rapturously). Ah ! 

Isra. Nay, nay, be deaf ! 

I did not say it, sir ! For thou art pledged ! 
Though if thou love my sister, and she thee, . 
Ye have the strangest v/ay of showing it ! 

Sir Merlyn. I do not love thy sister. 
^ Isra. She hath said 

That thou hast told her so. 



IN SARAMEDE. 67 

Sir Merlyn. It is not true I 

I did but toy with her. And she mistook 
My idle play. Tis an old fault of mine ! 
I do forget my strange and fatal pow'r- 
Poor soul ! I fear she loves me very much. 

Rosamund (crossing l.) . Doth she indeed ! Loves 
thee, thou flimsy fool ? 
Nay, but 'tis thou who art so all mistook ! 
Child, I would gladly yield thy . . . popinjay, 
But that I've took an oath and sworn a vow 
To wed no other than my Country's Prince, 

(Sir Merlyn starts.) 

For I was told he loved me and would wed. 
And thinking thus to save our threatened Land 
From staggering to ruin 'neath a fool, 
I offered her myself as sacrifice. . . . 

(Sir Merlyn both hurt and relieied. Isra jumping 
up, crosses Merlyn to l. c.) 

Isra. Thou meanest, then, that were he not the 
Prince 
Thou \^'ould'st not wed with him ? 

Rosamund. Not even though 

I loved him, and mistook his idle play !• 

(Sir Merlyn curls up.) 

But as for thee, why, child, we are at odds 1 
Did'st thou not say thy fancy had been ta'en 
By him . . . the hunter-knight ? 

Isra. The may-pole ? Nay ! 

Rosamund. I 'spake to thee of him ! 

Isra. Of him ? 

Rosamund. Who else ? 

Isra. Thou lovest Jiini ? 

Rosamund.' Hush, child. . . .1 have forgot. . . 



ag; iN SARAMEDir. 

Sir Merlyn (rises, stammering 'with excitement). 

M — M — Madam ! 
Rosamund (coldly). Sir Prince? 
Sir Merlyn. I give thee back thy vow ! 

Rosamund. Thou canst not, sir ! Twas sworn 

in face of Heav'n. 
Sir Merlyn. Madam, thy vow was ta'en to wed 

the Prince ^ 
Rosamund (wearily). Ay, sir. 
Sir Merlyn (triumphantly) . Then . . . then thou 

canst not wed with me ! 
Rosamund. What trick is this ? 
Sir Merlyn. Madam, no trick, indeed ! 

Rosamund. Would'st abdicate ? Would'st shnk 
from duty's path ? 
Ah, coward ! 

Sir Merlyn. Madam . . . I am not the Prince,- 
That's all ! 

Rosamund. Thou'rt not the Prince ! . . . 
Isra. Thou'rt not the Prince ! 

Sir Merlyn. It was a play, a jest to trick ye 
maids. 
He swore me to't, on hearing ye were come. 
I know not why, unless perchance he thought 
To learn, by watching of my ways with ye. 
How Princes use . . . Methinks I have not done 
The part so very ill ! What think ye ? 

(Rosamund turns with a little sound oj mixed surprise 
and joy, and hides her face against tree.) 

Isra. Oh f . . ., 

Then thou art but a simple gentleman ! 
A very, very simple gentleman ! 
Oh, I am joy'd ! Would whisper in thine ear 11 
(D.es so.) 

(RoLFE enters r. i e.) 

I'd not be Queen for worlds, or see thee King 1. 



IN SARAMEDE. 6f^, 

{Sees RoLFE.) It is the Prince ! {Curtseys.) . My 

humble homage, sir ! 
RoLFE. Hast told, old Merlyn ? 
Sir Merlyn. Ay, Sir Prince ! 

RoLFE {gravely, his eye on Rosamund). With- 

draw ! 

(Merlyn and Isra exit l. i e., laughing. Role 
turns to Rosamund.) 

My only love, I'm here to claim thy vow. 

My fooHsh whim hath caused thee saddest pain,, 

Can'st thou forgive the jester and the jest ? 

Thy love and thy Prince appeal to thee ... 

At thy heart's door we knock ! What answer, 

sweet ? 
Rosamund {turning shyly to him). Heart's eyes- 
are open, and heart's ears, my lord I 

RoLFE {taking her into his arms.) Heart's heart,,, 

then take thy summons of ... a kiss ! 

{They wander off together, or old bus., chorus, etc. 
Led by Sir Merlan and Isra, procession round 
tree. Martya appears c, calls " The boat ! The 
bjat ! " all go off singing, Rolfe and Rosamund- 
last.) 



Pnnted by Butler & Tanner, Frame and London. 



JUN 7 191? 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

II 




